Mauro Valiente kneels behind Leo Bacchus, his tattooed arms gripping the broader man’s hips as he presses his mouth to the dark hair at his nape. Leo sits forward, his muscular back arched slightly, one hand braced on the bed while Mauro’s fingers dig into his thighs, guiding him deeper. The air between them is thick with the weight of each thrust, the way Mauro’s body slams into Leo’s asshole with every drive.
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